In Remembrance
by symphonies of you
Summary: "It was a day of triumph, relief, and despondency—all mixed into one." 02 May 1998, a day to remember. Happy International Harry Potter Day.


As most of you probably know, it is Potterhead Memorial Day today (02 May). Just letting you know: this tribute of mine has one piece of information that might be inaccurate-Parvati's death.

**DISCLAIMER: ****Don't own. JKR does.**

Dedicated to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and to you, if you have stuck with Harry until the very end.

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_you held your head like a hero on a history book page_

_it was the end of a decade but the start of an age_

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It was 02 May, 1999. The one-year anniversary of Voldemort's death, the day when an immeasurable amount of tension and perseverance was radiated by the valiant, determined students and professors and Order members of Hogwarts, the day when evil was conquered by good for once and for all. It was unforgettable. There were gaping holes in all of their disfigured hearts that were left unstitched by the inconsolable sorrow of losing loved ones. There were scars that stood out on their faces, each one telling a story, a memory of that fateful day. But peace and glory and hope arose with the rising sun at dawn a year ago when the realisation of Voldemort's death all dawned on the fighters.

They were all gathered, gathered near the Black Lake where a monument of alabaster marble inscribed with all the names of those who died—_they went down fighting, they did not die in vain_—stood, forlornly overlooking the dark waters. The evening sky was laced with flamboyant crimson and violet streaks. Hundreds of wizards and witches were milling around, embracing each other and acknowledging each other. He glanced at the Weasley family and the Golden Trio, who were huddled at the edge of the crowd, their faces distraught with pain. All of them were there—original Order members, students, professors. Some were silent with expressionless faces, unwilling to exhibit the turmoil inside their heads; some were openly crying with uncontrollable tears streaming down their grief-stained faces. It was a day of triumph, relief, and despondency—all mixed into one.

Neville watched everyone through eyes that were still haunted by this very day a year ago. He remembered every word, every spell, every movement he made, every step he took. The memories flooded together before his eyes—seeing Harry moments before he turned himself over, slicing off Nagini's head, screaming stubbornly, "I'll join you when hell freezes over," at Voldemort in a brief moment of boldness. He bowed his head and allowed a lone tear to slip out his eye, down his prominent nose, to his dry mouth where he could taste the inevitable sadness merged with the saltiness.

When someone lightly touched his shoulder, he jumped, turning around to see that it was Luna.

"Hello Neville. The sky is very beautiful today, isn't it? I hope that the Nargles won't disrupt us tonight; it would be quite unfortunate," she greeted in her usual dreamy voice.

In spite of himself, he grinned; he had missed Luna, who had been gone travelling around the world to study the imaginary animals her father had informed her about.

"Hello Luna, yes the sky looks particularly lovely today. How was your trip?" he responded.

"Well, it was a bit disappointing because I couldn't find any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in Sweden. I'm starting to think that all of the creatures Daddy told me about are actually not real at all," she sighed unhappily.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, unable to form a more genuine response.

Luna peeked over at the sea of ginger hair accompanied by Harry and Hermione. "Should we go over to them and stand with Ginny? The Silver and Golden Trio should stand together on this particular day, I should think."

He agreed and together they strode over to those familiar faces. He felt like weeping at the sight of them; seeing them had conjured up so many recollections of the battle. Neville quickly embraced Ginny, then Hermione, Harry, and the rest of the Weasley family. His face softened towards George, whose weary appearance suggested he had met death in a past lifetime. He was like a ghost of his old self, his face contorted with anguish. Neville squeezed his callused hand, letting him know that he was there for him.

Someone cleared his throat rather loudly. It was Harry, who had gotten up to speak at the microphone in front of the monument before the crowd. Luna, Ginny, and Neville joined hands and waited for Harry to begin.

He nervously spoke, "Hello, we gather here to honour those who went down fighting and to revel in the fact that we defeated Voldemort this very day. Most of you know me as Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the person who defeated Voldemort. My mum had died for me, enveloping me in her impenetrable love, which protected me from the hate Voldemort contained. The same love strengthened us and united us into one, which enabled us to kill him. It wasn't me who overpowered him; it was all of us. _We_ all put an end to prejudices; _we_ all put an end to unreasonable cruelty and enmity. You gave me the courage to persevere, and I want to thank you for helping me save the Wizarding World and to tell you that your lost loved ones did not die in vain. They will always be remembered. Thank you."

There was a quiet round of applause, a few spontaneous cheers and whoops, following his short speech. Harry was now choking on his tears as he walked off towards Ginny, provoking Neville to intercept him before he reached Ginny and clap him on the back. When Harry peered at him, he saw misery that would never fade away clouding Harry's emerald eyes. He knew what Harry was thinking; Harry always had that infamous hero-complex and wanted to keep everyone safe. Neville looked him straight in the eye and firmly stated, "Harry, we wouldn't even be here or _alive _if it wasn't for you. You did not cause the deaths of Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby, Sirius, and the others. Voldemort did. And the Death Eaters, _not you._"

Harry managed a half-smile and thanked him. "Thanks, Neville. I really appreciate it. Er, if you don't mind, could you please go up there and say something?"

His eyes widened to an almost-comical size. "What? Why me?"

Harry sighed. "I can't think of any better person to speak on the behalf of all of us. Will you?

He swallowed his shock and apprehension and nodded, consenting to Harry's request. Half-staggering up the steps of the platform to speak, he stared out into the sea of familiar faces and was suddenly engulfed by fierce, unquestionable pride in having fought alongside most of them.

_Lift your chin and straighten your back. You're a Longbottom. Wear your name with pride._

He recounted his grandmother's wise words before he addressed the crowd. "Good evening, I am Neville Longbottom, for those who don't know me. This very day is a day of hope to some, a day of triumph to several, a day of grief to most. It was a day that friendship and loyalty proved themselves in us, a day that we learned to work together as one. We all lost people close to our heart. Sisters," he said, looking at Padma, "Brothers," he paused, looking at Dennis, "Sons," he uttered, looking at the Weasley family, "and friends close enough to be family," he finished, looking at the Order momentarily before gazing back at the crowd.

"But we fought the battle for them and won it for them. Like Harry said, they did not die in vain. We will always remember them; they will always have a place in our hearts. They will never fade from our memories, for they had a part in rescuing the Wizarding World from falling into evil. Cherish the seconds, minutes, days that you had spent with them and reminisce; let those without knowledge know of their bravery, their importance. Let us raise our wands to the sky for them, in remembrance of them," he verbalized, his voice tremulous with emotion.

They all drew their wands from within the folds of their robes—himself included—and pointed them towards the vibrantly-coloured sky, emitting sparks and jets of light with cheers and names of those who died filling the air. It was truly a wondrous sight to behold, to store away in his memories. It was truly a wondrous sight to see all of them united once more for the same reasons.

They will be remembered.

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_long live all the magic we made_

_and bring on all the pretenders, one day we will be remembered_

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**A/N: The song used was 'Long Live' by Taylor Swift, if you don't recognise it. Also, if you liked this enough to favourite it, please leave a review! =)**

**Published on 02 May 2012 at 7:07 pm on purpose.**

**-Nic.**


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